Song as Old as Rhyme
by Prongs3345
Summary: AU. Derek Morgan was the Prince of Las Vegas, until one night he became the city's celebrity outcast. Spencer Reid lives with his crazy mother on the outskirts of town, wishing for a better life. Based loosely on the premise of "Beauty and the Beast."
1. Chapter 1

**Welcome to my newest story! This is a Derek/Spencer story, but it is entirely unrelated to my previous stories, and is loosely based on the "Beauty and the Beast" fairy tale (and Disney movie, of course). **

**WARNING: This is SLASH, so if you don't like it, don't read it. There will be smut later on. Also if you've read my stories before, they tend to get dark and angsty, so be warned. **

**Disclaimer: I do not own the characters of Criminal Minds, nor do I own any rights to Disney or Beauty and the Beast. This story is just for my personal enjoyment.**

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**Prologue:**

_Once upon a time there was a young man, a child of the Vegas elite. The man was selfish, prideful and arrogant, and the only people he could consider 'family' were the people who worked for him. He had inherited from his father one of the riches companies in the United States, though most of his time was spent not with the company, but with a number of men and women in casinos, clubs and especially his bedroom. He was on the cover of every tabloid and there was a gossip column dedicated to his escapades in the Las Vegas Sun. Tall, dark, strong and handsome, Derek Morgan was the proverbial Prince of Vegas._

_Until one dry Vegas night, as Derek sat in a private booth in his favorite strip club, did his life abruptly change. A half-naked man and an equally under dressed woman were grinding on each of his legs, fighting seductively for control of the billionaires lap and for the single $50 bill he had in his hand. Derek was happily enjoying his third of fourth drink when his body guard walked over to him with his cell phone out. David Rossi was a middle aged Italian man, and though he wasn't exactly the bouncer type, he had many Vegas connections as well as his handgun that could easily protect Derek if it ever came down to it. Plus, Derek was no easy target; he had the body of an MMA fighter and a posse of eyewitnesses around him at all times._

_Derek frowned at the sudden intrusion by his body guard. An erection was straining his tight jeans and he was hoping to take one (or both) of the strippers home to his mansion that night. He beckoned for a man to fill his drink as Rossi leant down by his ear._

"_You're going to want to take this," Rossi said over the loud bass line of the music. "It's Hotch." Derek rolled his eyes and put the phone to his ear, his eyes still trained on the sweaty bodies who were relentlessly rubbing against him._

"_Hotch, this better be damn important," he growled, though he knew the man wouldn't have called otherwise. Aaron Hotchner had been his father's closest friend and one of the members of the board of directors for the company. Though Derek owned the company on paper, it was Hotch who ran it and would probably have owned it if Derek had not been born. Still, Hotch guided Derek through running the company and helped him with all the business matters in his personal life. Between Hotch and Rossi, they were his closest things to friends._

"_It is. Morgan, they found your father's will. A new one," Hotch spoke hurriedly. Derek's father's will had been written the day he was born, leaving the company to him 24 years later on the day of his father's death. Another will hadn't even been looked for, since everyone had believed that only one had been written. Derek gave an angry scoff._

"_Yeah? Five years after he's dead and _now_ they find a new will? What the hell does it say?" He downed his drink to calm his nerves and gestured for another. Hotch took a deep breath._

"_Your father… He gave the company to the board of trustees," he said, and Derek felt his heart sink into his stomach. "And you get reduced to 1% of the company."_

_Derek swore and pushed the strippers off of him, throwing the 50 dollar bill at them. The male caught it, but Rossi was quick to hand a bill to the girl, as well as catch Derek's phone as it went flying from his hand._

"_Hotch?" Rossi questioned into the speaker. "I see. Well, Derek is handling it about as well as to be expected. He-" Rossi turned and saw the door of the establishment slam shut, then turned towards Derek's booth. The liquor bottle, as well as Derek's leather jacket and motorcycle keys were missing. _

_Rossi turned back to the cell phone._

"_Hotch, we have a problem."_

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**Chapter 1:**

_1 year later_

"I'm telling you, everyone is talking about it. Derek Morgan was _seen_ _outside_ yesterday for the first time in god knows how long," Jennifer Jareau told her friend and flashed the magazine in front of his face for what felt like the fifteenth time. They were sitting – and sweating – on a bench near the park. It was too hot to be outside, but it was JJ's last day in Vegas before she moved to start her new job in Virginia, and she wanted to spend some time with her young best friend in their favorite spot.

Spencer Reid shouldered a bag full of library books and wiped the sweat from his brow, looking at the blurry picture of Derek Morgan again. Despite the heat wave, the former Prince of Las Vegas was shown wearing a sweatshirt with his hood up, walking from a limousine to the steps of Morgan Manor.

"I don't know why you care so much, JJ, he's a spoiled brat who got drunk and decided to drive his motorcycle into a tree, all because he lost most of daddy's company, which, by the way, still left him filthy freaking rich," Spencer spat out quickly. He and his mother weren't very rich, and he could feel himself resenting the amount of money Derek Morgan had all to himself. "Besides, the guy only spent about a year in jail, and most of that time was spent in the hospital. Forgive me if I'm not all that intrigued."

JJ rolled her eyes and flipped the magazine open again.

"For not being intrigued, you sure do have his life story memorized." This was true; the 20-year-old's eidetic memory had remembered the entire article by heart. JJ held up the tabloid's old picture of Derek Morgan from the year before. "You're intrigued because even you can admit that he's gorgeous."

Spencer rolled his eyes back at her.

"Yeah, objectively speaking, he _was_ an attractive guy. If I remember correctly, and I always do, the wreck was pretty bad, so he's probably not as good-looking as he used to be," Spencer pointed out, pushing the magazine away. "Anyway, I don't want to spend our last day together talking about the beastly Derek Morgan."

JJ consented, and they spent the rest of the time talking about the blonde's plans, Spencer's mom and old memories of their life in Las Vegas. Finally the time came for them to part, JJ to her apartment and Spencer to his mother's house to give her medication to her.

Spencer rode his bicycle through Las Vegas, reveling in the sights and sounds as he headed toward the outskirts where his suburban house was located. He loved his city; he couldn't imagine living anywhere else. As much as he wanted to go off to college - he'd had plenty of colleges offering him scholarships each year - he didn't have enough money to put his mother in a good sanitarium. He wouldn't settle for anything less than the best for her.

He pushed his brown, damp locks out of his eyes, as well as the sad thoughts of never getting out of Vegas. Soon he was passing the Morgan estate, glancing at the large mansion. He didn't have to ride his bike past it to get home, but it would shave 1.36 minutes off his time, and he'd always thought that the mansion was beautiful. The building was beautiful Baroque style architecture, with a circle driveway with several cars and SUVs parked in front. He swore for a split second that he saw someone watching him from a window, but his bike had continued past before he could get a better look.

Soon he was at his home in the suburbs. To his shock and dismay he saw his mother sitting in the car in the driveway, banging her small fists into the steering wheel. A few groups of neighbors had come out to watch when they heard the screaming, but none of them had done anything to help with her schizophrenic attach.

Spencer knew what they thought about his mother and him: how sad it was that the young, good-looking genius didn't have money to pursue college, that he was stuck living with his crazy mother, that they lived off money from assisted living and whatever jobs Spencer could scrounge up.

Spencer leapt off of his bike, leaving it neglected on the sidewalk, and sprinting to Diana Reid's door. Luckily it was unlocked, but Diana was proving difficult for Spencer to calm down.

"Spencer! Thank god you are here! I know you've hidden the car keys, but we have to get out of here. They're after us, the FBI, the CIA, all of them. We have to leave – now!" She fought relentlessly against him when he tried to forcefully pull her from the car. "Now, Spencer! We have to get out of here!" Spencer held her shoulders and looked into her eyes.

"Mom, please. The bad men are gone; it's just you and me. Let's go inside, please?" He said calming things over and over until she calmed down enough for him to pull her from the car. "Come on, Mom, let's go…" They started up the driveway, Spencer consciously locking the car door so that hopefully this even wouldn't repeat itself, when an engine revved and got Spencer's attention.

A dark SUV, that Spencer swore hadn't been there when he'd first rode into the neighborhood, was parked across the street from his home. The SUV had just turned on and pulled away from the curb, driving partway down the street and quickly turning down a corner. For the second time that day, Spencer felt like someone was watching him, this time from behind the tinted windows of the SUV.

"Spencer, let's go inside. I need to prepare my lecture on 17th century literature for my class tomorrow," Diana Reid said, causing Spencer to forget the eerie feeling for the moment and concentrate on getting his mother her medication.

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**Let me know what you think. Also I will be on vacation for a few weeks so I won't be updating or starting a new story, but don't worry, I'll be writing!**


	2. Chapter 2

**I had originally saved this for two separate chapters, but I feel like you guys deserve both of them at once! I apologize for the delay; I went straight from vacation and back to college so I've been a little busy. Hopefully my chapters will start coming with more regularity. **

**This chapter has a lot in it, so I hope you guys like it! I've still got three more major characters to introduce (I'm sure you can guess who at least a few are) and so much more plot. I'm really excited about this story! So much so, that it has taken priority over my other Derek/Spencer series. No worries though, I'll get back to it. :)**

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****Chapter 2:****

Spencer carefully wove his cart through the stacks of the University of Nevada, Las Vegas Library, staring wistfully at the UNLV students around him. He wished, more than anything, that he could be studying and reading with them, not as the library aid, but as a bona fide student. Spencer had graduated high school at 13-years-old; now he was 19 and he felt like he had wasted the last six years of his life. Unfortunately he had had to put his education on hold while he took care of his mother.

He sighed and tried to focus on putting the books in the correct place, but he couldn't seem to concentrate. He'd seen another black tinted car, this time in the parking lot of the library, as he walked that morning to start his shift. Spencer tried to tell himself that he was just being paranoid but, given his mother's condition, this was not a very comforting thought. He wished JJ was with him; he had missed her smiling face the last few weeks, and he knew that she would have been able to calm his anxiety. He quickly calculated that it had been 16 days, 2 hours and 32 minutes since he had last seen her. A cough and a tap on his shoulder alerted him to his boss behind him.

"Hey Spencer, it's eight o'clock, time for you to get out of here," Brian Anderson said, pulling the book cart towards him. Spencer tried not to roll his eyes at him. When Spencer had originally started working at the library he had thought that Anderson was attractive; now that he had worked with him for a few months he had come to the conclusion that Anderson a bit of an arrogant asshole. Spencer sighed and tried to pull the cart back towards him.

"Come on, Anderson, let me have a few more hours. I really need the money," he pleaded, subtly pulling the cart towards himself. Anderson gave an exasperated sigh and yanked the cart back.

"Sorry, Reid, but your shift is over. Students have the next shift and they get first priority. You know, since they actually go here." Anderson added and walked the cart towards the front of the library.

Spencer sighed, mentally giving Anderson the middle finger, and grabbed his messenger bag from the back room before exiting the library. Even though he didn't look out of place riding his bike through the UNLV campus, he knew he was separated from all the other students, and this thought stayed with him all the way home. Hopefully, he thought, he was meant for something better.

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"What are we doing here, Derek?" Rossi asked again quietly. Derek hadn't answered the last two times he had asked, and this time was no different. The young billionaire sat stoically in the dark back seat of the SUV while Rossi lounged at the wheel. For the third time in two weeks, David Rossi had found himself parked in one of Morgan's on the same crappy suburban street, and those were just the times when Rossi offered to drive. From what Rossi was hearing from the drivers that worked for Morgan, the man had been out several times a week looking for this mystery boy.

Rossi sighed; he knew exactly what this was. Before Morgan's accident, the young man had craved companionship. Not just in the bedroom, but in his home as well. He'd pick up a one-night-stand and then the next morning the lucky girl or guy would wake up to new clothes, breakfast and an invitation to dinner. Their 'guest' would stay for a few days and one day a company car would take them home and would never again hear from Derek Morgan.

But Rossi knew that something was different this time. Morgan had never followed, almost to the point of stalking, a person before now. Before it had always been a person he found in a club or a strip joint. As far as Rossi could tell, Morgan had never even met this guy.

Rossi sighed and looked at his young boss and friend in the rear-view mirror.

"What is it about this kid, Morgan? What is it that's got you so messed up?" Rossi let the questions hang in the air, not expecting an answer, but Derek responded with a low growling voice.

"I don't know Rossi. I just need to know this guy." Rossi could hear a strain in his voice, and he turned to talk to his boss before Morgan suddenly yelled out.

"Rossi, look out!"

The sound of an engine revving and metal crunching cut off his words and they were blinded by headlights as a tan station wagon crashed into them. Rossi could smell smoke leaking out of the car and he turned quickly to check on his companion.

"Derek, are you okay?" Before Derek could respond, the SUV rocked as the station wagon reversed and crashed into them again.

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Spencer coasted up to his house, looking around in confusion. Had he taken a wrong turn? Did he somehow dip into an alternate universe? Because there was no way that his old crappy station wagon had somehow turned into a black town car. And was this strange looking Italian man supposed to be his mother? But sure enough, this was his house, and this was his neighborhood. As he jumped off of his bike and wheeled it up the driveway, the man opened the door of the car.

"Hello, Mr. Reid. Would you like to come with us? We have some things to discuss." Spencer licked his lips and glared around confused.

"What… What's going on? I, uh… I need to see m-my mother. I don't understand-"

"It's all right, Mr. Reid," Rossi interjected, holding his hands up to stop Spencer from freaking out. "Your mother is with us, and she is safe. I'm just asking politely that you come with me so we can discuss a proposition from you." Spencer was immediately reminded of some kind of mob movie, and he was reluctant to be 'knocked off' or whatever the phrase.

"Where's my car? You still haven't told me what this is about." Spencer pushed past him to put his bike on the front porch, feeling himself start to panic. Was this what all the dark vehicles were about? What did this have to do with his mother?

"There will be time for explanations, just please get in the car and we'll talk on the way there." Rossi gestured the open car door and Spencer just stood on the front porch, frustrated and confused. He knew he really had no other choice except to go with this strange man. Except maybe…

"Okay, I'll go with you. But if anything has happened to my mother, I'm calling the police." Spencer left the porch and got in, feeling very on edge in the dark car. The man slid into the leather seat beside him and signaled to a driver to start the car. Once they had pulled out of the driveway, Spencer spoke again. "Can you at least tell me our destination?"

The Italian man sighed—Spencer noted that he sound very resigned, either he was reluctant to tell him or reluctant at his task in general—and replied.

"We're going to Morgan Manor. I'm sure you've heard of it."

The ride up to the mansion was relatively quiet. Every time Spencer asked a question it would be quickly answered with, "I don't think I'm the person to tell you that." The only thing Spencer felt he had garnered from the ride was that he would meet his mother at the mansion and everything would be explained then.

The town car pulled through the iron gates, which opened automatically at their approach, and up the path to the front steps. The driver tried to put the car in park and rush over to open the door for Spencer, but the young genius got out to stand on the gravel before he had a chance to open his own. The driver did open the door for the Italian man, whom Spencer had learned was named David Rossi, and who walked up beside him to escort him up the steps and through the oaken doors.

Spencer had never seen such a large house before. The foyer was an immense three-story room with sweeping steps up the center and to either side of the second-floor balcony. A large crystal chandelier hung right above him, and, open-mouthed, Spencer stared up towards it as if it was going to crush him. Whispering voices brought him back to his mission.

"…you did try to talk him out of this though, didn't you?"

"Yes, of course I did, Dave, it's ludicrous, but Derek is set on doing it."

Spencer tried to listen in on the conversation between Rossi and the other man, who was tall and thin with a full, dark head of hair, but they noticed him watching and the new man approached him.

"Mr. Reid, good to meet you. I'm Aaron Hotchner. If you'll come with me, please…" The man took large strides to the right of the foyer and through another large set of double doors. The room Spencer entered next appeared to be a parlor room with a dining table as well as some armchairs around a fireplace. There was a fire blazing, which normally would have seemed strange to Spencer in the heat wave, but with the strong air conditioning it almost seemed comfortable. He was dismayed to see that his mother, not to mention the elusive Derek Morgan, was absent from the room.

"Please, I just want to see my mom," Spencer insisted crossing his arms. He was so frustrated and confused, and it was giving him a migraine.

"Have a seat, Mr. Reid, and your mother will be here shortly. She was still eating dinner when I left to meet you in the foyer." Now Spencer was even more lost; they had made her dinner? Hotchner cleared his throat as they sat in the armchairs by the fire and began to speak.

"Mr. Reid, earlier today your mother took her station wagon and rammed it into one of Derek Morgan's SUVs while he and David Rossi were inside. Actually…" Hotchner smiled grimly, "it appears she rammed them several times. She's quite tenacious." When Spencer did not laugh or respond, he continued. "When Morgan and Rossi exited the vehicle, she came at them with a knife. She seemed to be under the impression that we were there to take her away-"

Spencer interrupted. "Well, yes, of course she would. She's a paranoid schizophrenic who, like me, has noticed that there have been black tinted vehicles posted everywhere I go. Care to explain that?" Hotchner looked surprised but did not comment on the accusation.

"Nobody was hurt, in the accident or otherwise, although there was extensive damage to both vehicles. The police came at the behest of a neighbor who saw the crash and called them. Morgan told them that everything was fine and sent them away and called a tow truck for your station wagon." Reid was extremely confused now; he was getting all questions and no answers. Hotchner saw his confusion and suddenly a look crossed his face, as if he was reluctant to say the next part.

"Mr. Reid, Morgan is willing to drop charges against your mother if you agree to stay here with him for an indeterminate amount of time. If you decline, Mr. Morgan will file official charges for destruction of property and assault as well as attempted murder," the serious man said, not meeting Spencer's shocked gaze. "If you accept, all your financial responsibilities will be taken care of and your mother will be sent to Bennington's, a state-of-the-art psychiatric hospital in the city. You will be provided with food, clothing, a room of your own—anything your heart desires—under the condition that you don't leave until Mr. Morgan tells you otherwise."

Spencer sat in shock. It was clear which choice he had to pick; he couldn't afford lawyer fees and even if his mother pleaded insanity her best-case-scenario would be poor compared to Bennington's. He had seen Bennington's, and he knew it was an ideal place for his mother. They had visited it last year and she had enjoyed the atmosphere, but it cost a lot of money to voluntarily commit her.

But still, he would basically become a prisoner in the mansion. _I would be giving up my freedom to do… what?_ What exactly did the billionaire want with him? Spencer tried not to let his mind wander to the worst case scenario. _Why would Morgan even be interested in me?_ _I've never even met the guy!_ His mind spun with thousands of questions, and he only looked up from his shaking hands when the door to the parlor opened and his mother walked in, flanked by Mr. Rossi.

"Spencer! What are you doing here? It is way too late for you to be out and about." She reached his chair and took the seat next to him, kissing his forehead and mussing his long hair. He could feel tears prick at his eyes and he tried to tell himself that he was doing the right thing.

"Hey, Mom, did you have a nice dinner?" Spencer licked his lips and squeezed his mother's hands, trying to focus all of his attention on her. He could feel Aaron Hotchner watching him as his mother told him about her fantastic dinner with none other than Derek Morgan. He smiled and nodded earnestly, until she suddenly stopped talking.

"Spencer, honey, what's wrong? Your mother knows when you are upset. Your eyebrows always get scrunched up and you won't look me in the eye." Diana Reid cupped Spencer's face and made him look her in the eye. "What is it, Spencer?" Spencer cleared his throat and placed his hands over his mother's.

"It's just… You remember that hospital we visited last year? Benington's? Mr. Morgan has kindly offered to give us the money for you to stay there." He hesitated long enough to kiss her forehead. "And I'm going to… to stay here and uh… work for him," he lied quickly, purposefully avoiding the gazes of the two other men in the room. Diana hugged him, wrapping her slender arms around his neck.

"That's wonderful, Spencer. It's a good opportunity for you. And I know you'll visit me when you can." Spencer rubbed his mother's back and glared at Hotchner and Rossi, hoping that she was right.

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><p><strong>Well, there it was! I'm working on the next chapter as we speak, and hopefully it's up within the next week. Thank you to everyone who reviewed andor favorited this story. It means a lot!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Oof... long chapter. I really don't want to waste anymore time on intros, just know that this is going to be the first of many interactions between Spencer and Morgan.**

**And I don't know if I have to remind everyone, but this eventually will be SLASH... eventually...yeah**

**It's 3:30 in the morning. I'm not exactly coherent at this time. So forgive any mistakes I made.**

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><p><strong>Chapter 3:<strong>

Spencer waved sadly to Diana as the van pulled away from the mansion to take her home to get her things and then to Bennington's. The orderlies had been nice enough, considering how late the hour was, and Diana seemed generally happy for, what Spencer had convinced her, was a new opportunity. He breathed a shaky sigh as the gates closed on the van, locking him into his new prison.

He turned to see Rossi and Hotch watching him in the doorway. It took all of Spencer's strength not to cry, or scream or curse at these men.

"What now?" he asked, not bothering to mask the anger in his voice. It didn't go unnoticed; Hotch and Rossi quickly exchanged concerned glances.

"Well, we could show you to your room, or if you are hungry, Derek is in the dining room with plenty of food left over from your mother's dinner." Rossi spoke as if the former choice wasn't really an option, which obviously made it the one Spencer took.

"I'm not hungry. Just let me go to bed," Spencer spat, entering the foyer.

"I really think you should speak to Derek first…" Rossi started, but was cut off by a sugary-sweet voice carrying down the stairs.

"Oh, hush, Rossi, let the boy get some rest. He's had a major change and he deserves to get a little shuteye. Derek can wait until tomorrow." The speaker was a bouncing blonde woman, wearing a colorful orange and blue ensemble, making her way down the staircase in treacherous orange heels. She ran right up to Spencer and embraced him in a hug, and Spencer suddenly felt simultaneously awkward and comforted at the same time.

"Honey, I'm Penelope Garcia, and I'll be your bedroom guide for this evening," she said, holding out her hand. "Oh if I had a nickel for every time I got to say that to a beautiful guy like you," she jested.

"I'm Spencer-ah, Spencer Reid," he said. He took her hand and shook it carefully, feeling overwhelmed by this colorful woman.

"Oh, I know all about you, sweetie. It's very nice to meet you." Spencer was about to ask exactly _how_ she knew all about him, but Rossi took that moment to take control of the conversation.

"Garcia, Morgan was very insistent that Spencer have dinner with him tonight. I don't think it would be wise to keep him waiting."

"I don't want to talk to Mr. Morgan tonight. I don't particularly want to talk to him ever, but especially not tonight," Spencer said loudly, crossing his arms over his chest. He could feel his face start to heat up as an awkward silence ensued. Finally Hotch let out a resigned sigh.

"He is a guest, I guess he can skip dinner if he wants to…" Penelope smiled brightly at Hotch's response and took Spencer by the arm.

"I'll show you to your room, and we'll get you some clothes until we can get some from your house." She steered him up the staircase and to the right, leaving Rossi and Hotch at the bottom of the steps.

Rossi sighed.

"That was just swell, Aaron. 'He is a guest!' Well you can be the one to tell Derek, I'm going to bed," he said with a huff as he walked away.

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Spencer looked around the spacious room in awe. The bedroom itself was about the size of half his house. Every piece of furniture was had a dark cherry varnish and the enormous four-poster bed looked like it had the most comfortable sheets he could imagine. Though he doubted he would use it, there was a great fireplace with some armchairs around it, as well as a small table with a chess set that Reid was dying to break in. There was a tall bookcase leaning against the warm red walls, and, although there were only about fifty books on the shelves, Spencer was delighted to find that he hadn't read _all_ of them. Two windows looked out into the dark garden below, and Spencer could spy a large, luxurious bathroom from the doorway.

"This is… this is amazing, Miss Garcia. It really is great," Reid said, walking around the room. It almost made up for the fact that Spencer was practically here against his will. _Almost_.

"Please, Spencer, call me Penelope or Garcia. No 'Miss's' here. Now come over here and I'll get you settled in," she said, sitting in one of the arm chairs and holding out what looked like a small tablet computer. "Spencer, if Derek Morgan was the President, you could call me his Chief of Staff. And I work almost entirely on computers."

Spencer sat beside her and took the tablet. There were icons for many things like 'Food' and 'Lights' and 'Call Garcia.' Spencer was dismayed to see that there was a 'Map' icon; was the house really that big? Garcia explained to him that the tablet worked like a universal remote for the entire house, as well as a call button for any staff he may need.

"It's pretty self explanatory. I designed it to be user friendly," she said with excitement. "There are some features that you won't be able to access, mostly technical stuff that either Derek, Hotch or I need to worry about. But if you need anything, just call me and I'll help you out."

Spencer admired the gadget. He wasn't a big fan of computers – hell, he didn't even own a cell phone—but Garcia had managed to make the manor into a literal smart house.

"But what if you aren't here when I need you?" he asked, suddenly fearful that his only friend in the house was going to be abandoning him. She laughed and pointed to the map feature of the tablet.

"I live here, sweetie, and my boyfriend Kevin is the head cook around these parts. We have a nice little apartment-style corner of the mansion for when we aren't working," she said, using the touch screen to show him where she lived. It was on the complete opposite side of the mansion.

Spencer looked at her with a shocked look on his face.

"Do you like living here? Don't you feel like a prisoner?" he asked, trying not to betray the anger and fear that was welling up inside him. Garcia just put her hand on his and shook her blonde curls with a laugh.

"Look at it this way: Kevin and I love our jobs, we live in a great suite and we can leave when we want to go out," she said. "And we figure about fifteen years of work here and we'll be set to retire. Derek pays us really well."

She glanced at the clock on the bedside table, a digital one that seemed out of place in the room, and stood to leave. The clock said it was 1:56 in the morning. "I have to go now honey, it's getting late. You'll be fine, and I'm sure I'll see you around tomorrow."

Spencer clutched the tablet to him as he walked the brightly colored woman to the door. Just as she opened the door they heard yelling coming from the hallway.

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"What do you mean, he said no?" Morgan asked, sitting at the dining table. Though there were only two place settings, the table itself had well over 20 chairs, formerly used for the frequent parties Derek used to have. Aaron showed no sign of flinching from Morgan's glare in the dark dining room, but inside he did feel a pang of nervousness. Not for himself but for the kid.

"He's tired, Derek, he's gone through a major ordeal today. He's practically here against his will. You can't _force_ him to come eat dinner with you," Hotch said, rubbing his tired eyes. To be honest, he just wanted to go home and see his son and go to bed before the company board meeting in the morning, but it looked like Derek was going to make tonight difficult.

Derek noticed this and waved him away.

"Go home, Hotch. I'll take care of the kid. If he doesn't want to eat with me, he clearly doesn't want to eat at all." He got up angrily and a little bit too quickly, and he stumbled back into the chair with a harsh groan. His left leg still hadn't recovered from the accident. He pushed himself up slowly and grabbed his cane from beside the table.

Hotch rolled his eyes as Derek limped toward the door, clearly intending to go to Spencer's room and give him a piece of his mind. He got to the bottom of the staircase before he had to stop, clutching his leg and swearing.

"You know, we have it in the budget to install an elevator." Hotch came up behind him and gave him an arm to hold on to. "And you really need to take your medication."

"I'm perfectly fine, Hotch, just a little stiff. Just take me to that little punk's room and I'll-"

"You're going to go to your room and take your medication. You're hurting and it's making you rash."

"Hotch! This is my house and I'll do what I want!" They reached the top of the steps and Derek shook him away, heading to the right and down the hallway to Spencer's room. Truthfully, Derek hated having to take medication, almost as much as he hated using the cane. He used to be so strong and powerful; now he felt like half a man.

Hotch recognized this also. He figured it was also the reason why he was acting so controlling over this kid.

"Morgan, he's not going to appreciate you barging in on him like this."

"Yeah? Well I don't give a damn, Hotch!"

Just as Morgan was reaching the door, it opened to reveal a very shocked Garcia and a scared looking Reid.

Both parties were momentarily stunned. Garcia was the first to speak.

"Derek, honey bear, what are you doing up so late? You need to rest!" she reprimanded him, taking a step toward him. Derek ignored her, instead staring into Spencer's eyes.

Spencer was sincerely speechless. In front of him stood the infamous Derek Morgan. Sure, Spencer had seen plenty of pictures of him in tabloids and newspapers, and _maybe_ he'd gone through a _brief_ phase where he obsessed over pictures of the god-like Prince of Las Vegas. But this Derek Morgan was not as fabulous as the tabloids made him out to be. Derek was leaning on a metal cane for support, barely distributing any weight on his left leg. His arms were muscular but not quite as impressive as they had been a year ago – Spencer recalled that both of them had been broken. And most shocking of all was a long scar that ran from the man's dark jaw and across his face, crossing the bridge of his nose and ending faintly between his eyebrows. Spencer was hit with the sudden realization that Derek Morgan was lucky that he didn't lose an eye.

Derek was breathing heavily, his eyebrows knotted together as he glared at Spencer.

"Come eat dinner with me. I'm sure you haven't eaten all day," he said, trying to calm himself. He had intended to yell at the kid, but Spencer's scared look in those beautiful light brown eyes made him forget why he had been angry. Spencer, however, didn't seem to feel the same way.

"No," he said simply, making to close the door. Derek moved as quick as he could and shoved his cane into the door way.

"That wasn't a request. It was an order," he said, the anger starting to rise back up in him. "You're my guest, and I wish to eat dinner with you."

Spencer just scoffed.

"Guest? Last time I checked, guests weren't forced to stay. It's late, and I'm going to bed. Goodnight everyone," he said curtly, giving a weak smile to Garcia and even Hotch but turning back to glare at Morgan. Morgan looked at Hotch and Garcia for help, but they both stepped back, not wanting to get involved. Morgan turned back to Spencer and saw the fear in his eyes again, but also saw the courage he was building up for a fight. He pulled his cane from the door, and Spencer slammed it shut and locked it.

"Fine. You win this one," he yelled, avoiding his remaining companion's eyes. "But if you don't eat with me, you don't get to eat at all!"

He looked at Garcia and Hotch, as if telling them that they better not sneak him food. Garcia's hand was over her mouth, and she looked afraid to speak.

"Come on, Derek, give the kid a break," Hotch said finally. "Don't order him around. Try approaching him tomorrow."

Derek shot him a glare and started his slow walk back toward his room on the other side of the mansion. Garcia looked up at Hotch with an unspoken question in her eyes. Hotch just sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose.

"No, Garcia. I have no idea what's going on with him either."

* * *

><p><strong>I've almost got the basic premise covered and I've started the gears a-churning for Spencer and Derek. I've got two main things missing that will be up in the next chapter. You can probably guess what elements from Beauty and the Beastcharacters from Criminal Minds I'm using. :)**

**I promise, this chapter will only take about a week (if college doesn't mangle my body).**


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